


Seeds

by Persiflage



Series: AoS Alternate Endings [11]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Cunnilingus, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hugs, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Phil Coulson, Post-Coital Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 06:03:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3370544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye surprises Coulson with her response to his news about her parents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeds

**Author's Note:**

> Skye and Coulson interactions in this episode damn near breaks me.

As Donnie is driven away Coulson goes in search of Skye, eventually finding her sitting in his office, staring at the image of the redacted letter to St Agnes.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly, closing the door to give her some privacy.

"Yeah."

He looks at her closely and sees that she doesn't look as devastated as she had earlier when he'd repeated to her what Agent Lumley had told him and May.

"I'm sorry that I had to give you such bad news," he tells her, sitting beside her on the couch. "I'm even sorrier that your story ends here, in bloodshed and murder."

She looks at him and he's surprised by the way she frowns at him. "Don't you get it, AC? My story doesn't end here – it begins here, with SHIELD. I've spent my whole life thinking I wasn't wanted, that I didn't belong – that maybe I never could. I thought that every family that took me in didn't want me, didn't care about me – but the whole time it was SHIELD protecting me, looking after me. It doesn't matter about the family I didn't have – what matters is the family I _did_ have." 

She gives him a grateful look, and he finds himself smiling at her, amazed all over again at the way she sees the world. It's as if her brain's wired different to other people's. Here he is, telling her something that would probably destroy most people's faith in humanity – and not only is her faith unshaken, but she has somehow just repaired a little piece of his as well.

He shakes his head slightly, both baffled and astonished by her, and she gives him a puzzled look.

"What's wrong?"

He smiles again. "Nothing. It's just – well, you amaze me."

"I don't know why."

"You see the world so differently, that's what's amazing."

"Oh." She seems to take a moment to digest this, then she asks, "Are we leaving here soon?"

"In an hour or so, I think. Agents Fitz and Simmons are in a meeting with Agent Weaver at the moment."

"Would it be okay if I go and look at the Wall of Valour again?"

He nods. "Do you want to go alone, or would you like some company?" He makes the offer a little tentatively, not wanting to crowd her, but wanting her to feel she doesn't have to go alone if she'd rather not.

"You?" she asks, and he nods again. "Yes, please."

He gets to his feet and offers her his hand, and when she takes it and gets to hers, he gently pulls her into his arms.

"I should have done this earlier," he says. "I just wasn't sure you'd want it, or not from me, not then."

"I would've liked that," she says softly. 

He presses a kiss to her forehead, then takes her hand in his and leads the way off the Bus and across the campus to the main building where the Wall of Valour stands.

Coulson lets go of Skye's hand as they approach the Wall, and stands back to give her whatever space she needs. He watches as she locates the name she's looking for, then traces her finger across Agent Linda Avery's marker, before she bows her head in silent contemplation.

She lifts her head after a minute or two and turns towards him, and Coulson closes the gap between them. "Okay?" he asks again, putting his hand on her wrist.

She nods, then swallows. "Can we go for a walk?"

"Sure." He's not very surprised when she takes his hand, and he suspects she wants the comfort of touch at the moment, for all she told him she's okay.

They walk out onto the campus, and Coulson heads towards a small lake that he knows is located towards the back of the site. There are groups of trees scattered near the lake, and benches made from logs, and he picks one set not too far from the edge of the water. They sit down, and Skye leans into him, and he slips his arm around her, rubbing his hand gently up and down her upper arm.

"You don't mind this, do you?" she asks, a little belatedly, perhaps, but if he had minded, he wouldn't have put his arm around her.

"What, you leaning on me?" She nods. "Of course not. After all, I've been leaning on you a lot since that business with Raina, so it's only fair."

She shudders at his mention of Raina and his ordeal in the memory machine.

"Sorry," he says contritely. "I shouldn't have brought that up."

"No, don't apologise," she says quickly.

"But I shouldn't have reminded you."

"AC, we've talked about this. I don't mind you talking to me about it. I will always listen, you know that." She sighs. "I still think you should talk to a professional."

He pauses his hand, and she shifts to look up into his face, her cheek pressed against his chest, just above his heart. "Coulson?"

"I'm not sure I trust anyone in SHIELD," he says softly. "And there's no way I could see someone outside of SHIELD.

"I get it." She puts her arm across his middle, and says, "I guess you'll have to talk to me, then, in lieu of anyone else." 

"I don't want to give you nightmares," he tells her.

"Phil," she whispers. "I don't like to think of you having them."

"Part of the job, I'm afraid," he tells her. 

He doesn't reprimand her for using his first name – it feels right, given how close they've grown since she rescued him from Raina. Sometimes he thinks they're too close, but the fact that she's not (yet) officially a part of SHIELD often makes it easier for him to talk to her, especially about what was done to him. 

She tightens her hold on him for a moment, then sits up, and he automatically reaches out to brush her hair out of her eyes. He sees her eyes widen, then she reaches up to clasp his wrist and presses his palm against her cheek. He feels a flutter in his belly, and heat in his groin at the gesture, and he realises abruptly that he's going to do something really regrettable if he doesn't get back to the Bus, back to his work, immediately. Fortunately, his cell phone rings, and he has to pull his hand from Skye so he can pull his phone from his pocket and answer it.

AC-S-AC-S-AC

Hours later, just after midnight, Coulson's prowling around the Bus, making sure everything's okay. He does this on those nights when he's been working late in his office – just as a way to clear the dull fog the paperwork induces from his brain before he tries to sleep. He very occasionally sees May on her way to or from the cockpit, but usually the others are asleep, and he prowls like a flesh-and-blood ghost, and he expects tonight to be the same, but when he reaches the lower level he can hear muted music coming from the SUV, and he feels his body clench with worry as he realises it must be Skye, because no one else ever sits in the back of the SUV, unless he joins her there.

He opens the door and she looks up, startled, then her eyes go even wider, and he assumes it's because his looks pretty dishevelled after removing both his jacket and his tie a few hours earlier; his shirt sleeves are rolled up, too, and he guesses his hair's sticking up any which way from running his hand through it in frustration more than once. 

"AC?"

"Skye." He nods. "Can't sleep?"

"I, uh, haven't tried yet," she says, and he lifts an eyebrow – she's dressed for bed, in a loose t-shirt and pyjama pants.

"I see." He doesn't offer any kind of condemnation since he knows all too well the miseries of sleeping badly.

"You?" she asks.

"I've only just finished working," he tells her. "Paperwork." He scrunches his nose up and she chuckles softly, which makes him smile. "Want to come and have a nightcap with me?"

Her eyes widen again. "Yes." She touches the screen of the tablet she's using and the music cuts off, then she scrambles out of the SUV, and he realises abruptly that she's not wearing a bra, which should be obvious, but it hadn't really occurred to him before that moment. He swallows hard and hopes his body's not going to react in an embarrassing fashion.

He gestures for Skye to go up the stairs ahead of him, and as soon as her back's turned, he presses his hand firmly against his burgeoning erection, trying to calm himself down. Just one drink, he decides, and then he'll go to bed, even if Skye doesn't.

Upstairs in the lounge, he pours them both a drink, then he sits beside her on the couch. He tries not to sit too close, but Skye shifts nearer, and leans against his shoulder, and he likes it too much, and is too worried about rejecting her to move away.

"Do you often work this late?" she asks, taking a sip of her bourbon.

"Sometimes," he tells her. "Depends how much paperwork I have to get through. I hate paperwork."

She chuckles, as if he's letting her in on a big secret. "I suppose being in charge of the Bus team means you have a lot of paperwork?"

"Too much," he tells her. "But every part of SHIELD's the same, the higher you go, the more paperwork you get saddled with."

"I guess you should be glad you're not Director, then?"

It's his turn to chuckle now. "Yeah. If I had as much paperwork as Fury, I might have to shoot things."

"AC?"

"Yeah?" He wonders if he sounds as wary as he suddenly feels at the more intimate tone in Skye's voice.

"Thank you."

"For what?" he asks, confused.

"For this afternoon. For telling me what Agent Lumley told you, for going with me to the Wall of Valour. For holding me." The last three words come out as barely more than a whisper.

"You're welcome."

She sets her empty glass down on the coffee table, then turns towards him. "I'm glad that you were the one to tell me – you could've delegated it to May."

He shakes his head. "May didn't want to tell you. She thought it would be better if you didn't know."

"Why didn't you agree?"

He shrugs. "After being lied to about my own death and recovery, do you blame me? I did consider it," he tells her honestly. "That's why I didn't tell you as soon as we got back – I thought it would devastate you, but then I realised that I was being selfish."

"How?" 

"Because that was more about me not wanting to upset you, than it was about giving you the answers you needed. And that was unfair."

She is blinking rapidly, and he sees that she is close to tears, and he forgets his earlier reserve, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her against him. He strokes her back and presses his lips to her hair, and murmurs "It's okay", and "I've got you" to her over and over until she stops sobbing into his shirt.

"I'm sorry," she says, straightening up and looking ruefully at the wet patch on his shirt.

"It's okay," he says. He reaches up to brush her hair off her face, and she clasps his wrist, just as she had earlier, then she turns her head and presses a kiss to the palm of his hand.

"Skye," he groans, aware that he's growing hard.

"Phil." She lowers her head and nuzzles the side of his neck, then around to his throat, and he groans again as she sucks on his Adam's apple. He can feel his cock thickening and lengthening inside his pants, and he has to reach down to adjust himself. He's not surprised when Skye moves to straddle his lap, pressing her sex against his stiffening cock.

"Not here," he mutters. He didn't mean to say that. He meant to tell her that she should go to bed, so he would be able to take himself back to his room and get himself off under the shower.

She presses her chest against his and he can feel how taut her nipples are beneath her t-shirt, through his shirt. He clasps her hips, guiding her to rock against him, despite his objection to doing this here. 

"Skye," he gasps. "I'm going to come if you keep that up, and I'd rather not come inside my pants – it's so messy.

"Your room?" she asks.

He nods. He should say 'No', but he cannot. He wants her too badly.

They hurry to his room, and Coulson closes his office door before leading Skye through to his bedroom.

"I'm not going to fuck you straight away," he tells her, and she gives him a disappointed look. "Don't worry, I will – but a man of my age has a longer recovery time than one Miles' age or younger. So I want to get you off in other ways first." He pulls her towards him.

Skye expression brightens again. "What do you have in mind?"

"I want to eat you out," he says in a low voice, then he nuzzles the side of her neck before nipping at her earlobe. "Is that okay?"

"I thought guys didn't like doing that," she observes. 

He straightens up. "This guy does," he says firmly, and she grins, before reaching for the tie on her pyjama pants. He grabs her hands, and pulls them away. "Nuh-uh. I'm going to undress you."

She giggles softly then, and he pulls her t-shirt loose, then lifts it up and off over her head, kissing a path up torso as he raises the t-shirt.

"You've got a wicked mouth, Phil," she tells him, and he smirks at her, then takes one beautifully hard nipple between his lips, and proceeds to show her just how wicked his mouth can be with sucks, bites, and licks. He does the same to her other nipple, and by the time he's finished, she's clutching his shoulders and shaking.

"Fuck!" Her quiet gasp makes him smirk even more before he unfastens the tie on her pants and lets them drop to pool around her feet. She's wearing skimpy lavender and cream panties, and he sees there's already a damp patch on the crotch.

"That for me?" he asks, and she nods. "Good."

He slips her panties off too, then backs her up to the bed and she sits down, then watches as he strips off his shoes and socks, pants, and shirt. She grins and licks her lips when she sees the way his erection's tenting out his boxers, and he cups himself through his boxers, trying to calm himself, before he climbs onto the bed.

"Lie down," he tells her, and she shifts to the middle of the bed, and he gives her all his pillows to prop up her head so she can watch. He lies on his stomach between her legs which fall open as soon as he lightly clasps her knees, and he can't help groaning: he can see the glisten of moisture on her sex, and he inhales the scent of her arousal before ducking his head to press light kisses interspersed with little nips of his teeth up from her knee to her thigh on first her right leg, then her left. He has to force himself not to grind shamelessly into the bed – he wants to fuck her, not spend himself on his sheets, but his cock is so hard it's throbbing, and it takes a real effort of will to concentrate on Skye's pleasure.

He uses his thumbs and forefingers to pull apart the lips of her sex, then softly blows air over her clit.

"Oh fuck, Phil!" she cries, and clutches at his head. 

He lifts his head to give her a smug smile, and she growls, then pushes his head downwards again. He chuckles, then lightly draws his tongue up the length of her entrance. She moans when he nips at her clit, then soothes it with long strokes of his tongue. He thinks that too many men fail to appreciate the exquisite pleasure of going down on a woman, which is a shame because it is very satisfying for him – and he's never had a woman complain at his technique, so he assumes it's pleasurable for them too.

He hears Skye's breathing growing ragged, hears her begging him for more, then feels the moment when she falls over the edge of her orgasm, and he laps and sucks at her sex as she bucks her hips and comes.

He presses gentle kisses to her inner thighs, then pushes himself up off the bed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, before moving up the bed to kiss Skye hungrily.

"That was so good," she tells him, voice low and breathless.

"Good." He's a bit smug, he knows, but he thinks it's justified – she looks very beautiful in the aftermath of her orgasm, her skin glowing and a thin layer of sweat dampening her brow and hair.

"Are you gonna fuck me now?" she asks, looking down at his straining cock.

"If that's okay with you."

"Fuck yes." She sounds quite desperate for him, although not as desperate as he feels for her.

He gets his boxers off, then asks, "Missionary, or do you want to ride me?"

"Missionary this time," she tells him, and he chuckles a little at the implication she expects to do this more than once.

"So, there's going to be a next time?" he asks.

"Do you doubt it?" 

He shakes his head. "No." He reaches for the drawer of his nightstand, and pulls out a box of condoms, then takes out a small foil packet and proceeds to sheath himself.

"Ready?" he asks. 

For answer, she grabs his cock, not too roughly, and guides him down to her slick pussy. "Fuck me, Phil."

Her tone is very stern, and he finds himself suppressing a shudder before he guides his prick into her pussy.

Her eyes go wide and he registers that his cock must be bigger than Miles', something that she confirms a moment later with a muttered "Oh god." 

"Are you okay?" he asks, pausing half way home.

"Yeah, yeah," she says quickly. "Don't stop."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You're not – just stretching me, but it's good. I like it."

He stares at her a moment, to reassure himself that she means it, then pushes the rest of the way inside her, groaning softly himself when he bottoms out.

"Fuck, Skye," he whispers. "You're so tight, and wet, and hot." He swallows, then admits with a blush, "I don't think I'm gonna last long."

She pulls his head down, her hand on the back of his neck, and kisses him hungrily. "I don't mind, so long as you get off."

"Not gonna be a problem," he assures her, and she chuckles, then lightly squeezes her muscles around his length. "Fuck!"

She chuckles again, then says, "What are you waiting for, Phil?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing." He begins to thrust, but his intention of taking it slow is swamped almost immediately, overrun by the sensation of sliding his cock in and out of Skye's velvety soft heat.

After a few moments, she reaches down and begins rubbing her clit, and he gives her a grateful smile, then picks up the pace of his thrusts as his need to come grows ever more urgent.

She gets there first, but only by seconds, then his hips stutter to a halt, and he feels as if his cock is actually exploding, he comes so hard.

"Fuck," he gasps once he has enough air in lungs to speak, then he rolls off Skye and flops back down onto the bed. "Fuck."

"Are you okay?" she asks softly, her hand resting on his chest.

"Yeah," he says, breathing heavily. "That, uh, that was my first time since I died."

Her eyes go wide with disbelief. "You're joking?"

He shakes his head. "Nope."

She looks like she might cry, and he slips his arm under her and gently tugs her closer, nuzzling her temple.

"Thank you for choosing me as your first," she whispers.

He lifts her head and smiles at her, then kisses her softly. "Thank you for being my first." He pulls her into a kiss, then asks, "Do you want to stay?"

"Won't that be risky?" She asks the question but he senses she wants him to let her stay.

"Not if I make sure you're up early enough to slip back to your bunk before Ward is ready to start your training."

"Then yeah, I want to stay."

"Good." He gets out of bed and disposes of the condom, then pulls on his boxers. "You going to be warm enough like that?" he asks, and she nods, so he climbs back into bed, and they spoon together, his arms wrapped around her torso, and her arms resting over his.

As he drifts into sleep, Coulson can't help thinking he's a lucky man, and hoping that they'll be able to do this again. It's against protocol, but it feels like the right thing for them – it might be selfish, but he wants this, wants Skye and this relationship with her, and after everything Director Fury did to him without his knowledge or consent, he's prepared to fight for it, too, if he has to. (He hopes it won't come to that, or to him resigning, but he'll do both if necessary.)


End file.
